


el mañana

by angrylizardjacket (ephemeralstar)



Series: this must be just like living in paradise [7]
Category: The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 08:50:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20721479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstar/pseuds/angrylizardjacket
Summary: Lola visits Vince in prison, but it turns out she’s been coping with drugs and denial and it’s wrecked more havoc on her psyche than anyone had realised.





	el mañana

"Where 'r we going?" Lola had been zoning out for most of the car ride, letting LA pass by in a blur while the music playing through the radio was more like white noise.

"To see Vince, like you asked," Tommy's tone is tight, and his grip on the steering wheel is almost white knuckles. Lola can't bring herself to look at his expression, too worried about what she'll see there.

"'nd where's Nik?" She tried straightening up a little, but it was uncomfortable, made her head swim in an unpleasant way.

"Probably still at your place; he didn't want to come," they both knew that wasn't true; Lola has shot up just before leaving, but Nikki had taken a dose earlier and was already getting hit hard by the time Tommy had arrived, drawn to their house by Lola's frantic phone call about how she needed to see Vince. Tommy's uncharacteristically quiet.

"Are you mad at me?" Lola asked, the words slipping lazily from her lips like she's anticipating a '_yes_', like she's already got a snide remark ready to go.

"'course not, I just don't wanna be here long. I've got a date with Heather tonight so I can't get fucked up with you guys, and I don't wanna be in a weird-Vince head space, you know?" He gives her the first real smile of the drive, and Lola's heart melts a little at the sight, "I could never be mad at you, Lols."

"I love you, Tommy," she tells him with an intoxicated sincerity, and Tommy's smile dies a little; for the sake of his burgeoning relationship with Heather, he knows he can't indulge Lola like he wants to. He focuses on the road, Lola sighs gently, expression falling. "Vince's house is like a three minute drive from mine; where are we going?" She finally speaks up.

"What do you mean?" Tommy frowns, "we're- dude we're visiting Vince in jail like you asked-"

"I said I wanted to visit him, and I couldn't drive and-" sometimes there was a painful innocence about Lola that Tommy's own childish nature would never be able to replicate, and he hears it in her voice now, "I just- I miss him, and I checked the calendar and," there's panic rising steadily in her voice, "we - us and Razzle - we were going to go to this bar that one of Razzle's band mates likes and we were meant to organise a day to go _ages_ ago-"

The car screeches to a halt as Tommy pulls over.

"Stop fucking around, Lola, it's not funny."

"And they hadn't called so I called you to ask you for a lift there-"

"Are you being fucking forreal right now?" Tommy asked quietly, his throat suddenly dry as sandpaper.

"Why is Vince in jail?" She sounds so damn helpless. Her fingers are flexing in and out of fists, unsure of what to do, what she even _could _do. She's never been good at reaching out, metaphorical or not, but it's never been so painfully obvious before.

"You're not kidding? You really don't remember?" Tommy's frown deepens as he looks to her, though his tone had softened. His hands are still in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

"I don't-" Lola exhaled slowly, pausing, "Tommy I don't remember the past _month._" She admitted, and it's so quiet. "And I know why, obviously I know _why_, but I don't... I don't know _why_ why." She's trembling and he doesn't know what to do or where to look; he's seen Lola when she's fragile but it's been _so long_.

"Razzle's dead."

Finally he looked at her, really looked at her; her face had gone blank.

"_Oh_." She swallowed hard. "I don't remember that." Nose twitching, she sniffles, brushing the tears from her eyes before they even threatened to spill. "Can we go see Vince?"

Once the car starts again, she's rummaging around her pockets. Tommy watches in his peripheries as she pulls a wrinkled bag of pills from her pocket. She dry swallows the lot.

At the prison, the first thing Lola notes is how tired Vince looks. She cards her fingers through his hair, and his expression is soft, a little forlorn.

"I didn't think you'd come visit," he admits, before pausing. It's gentle when he holds Lola's cheek with one hand, his thumb brushing her cheek bone, "are you high?" His voice is a murmur, and neither is sure if it's hurt of disappointment bleeding through. Lola's nose twitches a little and she can't help but sniffle.

"Baby, don't cry," he murmured, and Lola nodded adamantly, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

"How are you?" She tries, and she watches his mouth move but her mind can’t process his answer. She’s got so many questions, but is barely in the right frame of mind to have them answered. So she lets him talk.

Her smile grows distant as the drugs start to hit her, and she couldn’t concentrate even if she wanted to. The conversation from the car has already faded from her faulty short-term memory, and she doesn’t know where she is. All she recognizes is Vince. But she’s so used to just _being places _and not knowing how she got there, at this point, so she goes along with it, nodding every time there’s a lull in the blonde’s words. It doesn’t take Vince long to realise this, and he just looks so _tired._

“Why are you here, Lola?” 

“Huh?” It’s only when she hears her name that she struggles back into the present.

“_Why _are you here?” Vince asks, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles where he’s holding her hand.

“I wanted to see you,” Lola smiles a little, looking around as if she’s not sure where she is, “we were meant to go to that club - what did Sami call it? I can’t remember...” She trailed off, her smile a little confused. 

“Lola,” Vince says very seriously, and he keeps saying her name until she finally looks him in the eyes, “Lola, you need _help_.”

“I’m _fine_, Vinny,” she tells him earnestly, giving his hand a squeeze, as if trying to reassure him. It’s clear she believes that, she doesn’t have the energy to lie. “When are you coming home?” She asks, and Vince actually winces a little at that.

“Soon.” Vince says with a weak smile, “did Tommy drive you?” He asks, and Lola nods. Vince waves over a guard.

“Hey man, can you escort Miss Gone back to Tommy Lee? And just... can you please give him a message from me?” He asks, and Lola frowns a little, but isn’t capable of paying enough attention to care. The guard seems skeptical but nods slowly.

“Is she high?” The guard asks, frowning at Lola, who smiles blithely back.

“Prescription pain medication, it takes it out of her,” Vince lies easily, giving Lola’s hand a gentle squeeze, “can you tell Tommy that she needs help? She’s been through a lot recently and I don’t think she’s dealing with it well.” The guard sighs and nods, and Lola stands when asked, though she hesitates. 

“Vinny?” She asks softly, and he looks at her, his expression heavy. She’s careful not to hug him, they’re very strict about that here, but she takes his hand and presses a kiss to his knuckles, “I miss you.” She laughs a little airily, “all my boys have scattered, but you’re always gonna be my boys.” And with that she lets herself be lead out.

Tommy’s quiet for the entire drive home after hearing Vince’s message from the guard, dropping off Lola without a word. He seems... perturbed.

“Where’ve you been?” Nikki asks from where he’s flopped back on their bed when Lola gets in.

“Vince’s place as gotten _super _depressing,” Lola sighed, crawling onto the bed, straddling Nikki and pressing a kiss to his bare chest. Nikki is very, _very _quiet. His hands rest on Lola’s thighs, “it’s _so gray_, whoever remodeled for him should be shot.”

“You want some smack?” Nikki asked, and Lola sighs like the thought of it alone is enough to bring her peace. She nods. Nikki pushes up the hem of her skirt with one hand, and reaches over to the syringes on the bedside table with the other.


End file.
